


After the After Party

by TVbabie



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: 2011, Bi! Josh, Coffee Shops, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Dates, Gay! Tyler, Josh has his curly brown hair, Josh is sensitive, Josh works at the Guitar Centre, M/M, Overuse of the word 'Dude', Party Animal! Josh, Reckless Use Of Alcohol, Tattoo Artist! Tyler, Tattoos, Twenty One Pilots is just Tyler's hobby at this point, Tyler is overconfident as shit, and a lip piercing, basically how they meet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:16:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8011549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TVbabie/pseuds/TVbabie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh wakes up hungover on someone's couch with his jeans around his ankles and some ink engraved on his knee</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's Always Hard in the Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's really bad to juggle fics but I just had an idea and I wanted to get it down LMAO, this'll probably be a short n' sweet one considering my other fic is currently at 48,000 words :)
> 
> Also this fic is inspired by The Midnight Beast's After the After After Party series thingy where Ash gets a bunch of shitty of tattoos from a random guy he meets ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The first thing Josh vaguely registered was that his centre of gravity was… a bit off.  Then there was pain in his neck and pressure on his skull and as he drifted towards consciousness he recalled that he had fallen asleep on someone’s couch – well technically only 50% of him had, but still. He peeled open his puffy eyelids and squinted as the bright light teased a migraine behind his forehead. He was _definitely_ hung over and it was no surprise whatsoever.

Josh was now aware enough to acknowledge that his numb cheek was spread like a sticky pancake against the cold wooden floor and was holding up most of his weight except for his feet – which were still sporting his dirty sneakers and hooked around the arm of the couch. Whose couch it was he couldn't be so sure of, but he had certainly crashed there for (most of) the night because his neck was now killing him, his back was now killing him, and the angle that he was laying at made his throat a perfect open passageway for the contents of his stomach to come flooding out. The familiar feeling of his stomach surging jolted him awake and he fumbled to plant his clammy hands on the floor so he could heave his head up and stop the flow, but despite all his efforts he still managed to gag up a sickening mix of what looked like 3 bags of chips and a _lot_ of alcohol. The poignant smell reached his nose almost immediately and in response he made a gurgling noise of disgust before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and finally opening his eyes. 

The room was _blinding_ , like _literally blinding_. Josh couldn’t understand why someone would go through all the effort of arranging and hosting a party, only to decorate their house with a predominantly white theme. White walls, white furniture, white floorboards – ‘ _well, not so white floorboards anymore.’_ Josh thought self-deprecatingly as he pulled his legs down from the couch and shuffled backwards to get away from the mush he had just thrown up. White-anything was a bad idea, and Josh's reasoning for that was on the floor in front of him.

He then turned with a sigh to look down at his yesterday-body with his yesterday-clothes and was surprised to find that his jeans were stuck around his ankles.

 _‘Huh.’_ He thought dismissively and blinked a few times before his mind snapped like an elastic band and he ran his hands over his body frantically.

 _‘I didn’t… On the couch? No –no I’d remember…’_ He grasped at the hem of his crumpled flannel shirt and pulled it up to his chin, exposing a roll of stomach and his boxers. He yanked the waistband forwards to give a swift inspection and breathed a sigh of relief. All clear.

 _‘Right, okay good.’_ Josh relaxed slightly and let the material ping back into place. To be fair, he'd done worse things at a party than just have sex on someone’s couch, like the time he pushed Mark’s mom into a bush and she broke her ankle. They’re on good terms now though after Josh insisted on being the ride-along in the ambulance and had drunkenly read her Harry Potter fan fiction off his iPhone whilst they waited to be seen. He was pretty sure the other dozen people sitting in the waiting room at 1am enjoyed it too. _'Good terms_   _and good times, Mrs. E'_ , He thought respectfully before deciding now was as a good a time as ever to skip this joint before he ended up getting involved in operation cleanup.

So Josh leant forwards to peel back up his jeans (as it wasn't the most noble way to be found by your friends) and he tried to recall anything that had happened last night. From experience, most memories would usually come back to him in an hour or so - but that wasn't a complete guarantee. Suddenly a dull pain shot through his left leg and he stopped abruptly. _‘What the…’_  Josh carefully rolled the material back down to reveal a large inky black-blue smudge just above his knee.

It took Josh a couple of seconds to realise that it wasn’t just pen because when he licked his finger and went to wipe it off it it stung like a _bitch_.

“Holy shit…” he breathed out loud to himself, “I got tattooed again.”

“What dude?” Mark’s tired voice sounded from under the coffee table and for the first time Josh noticed that there were other people in the room. Brendon was slumped up against a far wall and someone’s feet were poking out from behind the grey sofa that stood opposite Josh’s one. A blonde girl in a floral party dress was curled up on the said sofa with her back facing outwards and only one high-heeled shoe on. Between them was a glass coffee table covered in empty bottles of booze and shot glasses, under which Mark was laying and staring up at the ceiling blankly, like he was in a coffin and/or awaiting death.

Panic suddenly set into Josh's system and he gestured hard at his leg. “Dude I got tattooed _again_ , look!”

Mark sighed with annoyance but wiggled out from under the table and propped himself up on an elbow – inspecting thetainted area. 

“Dude, that’s rough.” He croaked with a smile playing about his face. Josh slapped him lightly on the shoulder.

“This isn’t funny man! W-what is it? Please tell me it’s not like a drawing of a dick or anything – oh God I’m never gonna be able to wear shorts again, OR ripped jeans what the hell am I gonna- Hey! Ouch!”

Mark reached over and touched the skin around it. “Ty…? Tyler?” He read out loud and Josh stopped whining.

“…Tyler?”

“Tyler.” Mark confirmed with a confident nod.

Josh sat, thinking for a second. Of all the things he expected to get tattooed, a random guy’s name was not one of them. “I… I don’t know any Tylers.” He admitted and Mark raised an eyebrow.

“You sure Dude? Not to sound rude but you sleep around a lot – maybe you just didn’t catch his name or-“

“Shut it Mark, you're making me sound like I'm an easy fuck – and what are you trying to say anyway? That we had sex and then as payment he tattooed me? Not likely.” Josh snapped and Mark put a hand up in defence.

“Chill dude, I’m just wondering why he’d specifically tattoo his _name_ on you… unless you’re into that like ‘you’re my property’ kind of kinky shit – “

“Mark can you just shut the fuck up for a second, thanks.” Josh cut him off bluntly, leaning forwards to stretch the skin surrounding the ink experimentally. “God, it looks like it was written by a kid.” He grumbled sourly – but he was allowed to be pissed off, he had to have this on his body for the rest of his life. "Do you remember anything from last night?" He asked Mark as he inspected it. Whoever did this _kind of_ knew what they were doing because the skin around it was neatly shaved. It's just a shame they didn't bother to seal it - the last thing Josh wanted was an infection.

"Uhh, yeah dude, like, I think you and Brendon had a back-flip-off and it was  _amazing!_ I mean, I can't remember whowon but..." Mark trailed off as he was shot a disapproving look from Josh.

"Anything _relevant_ to the situation at hand?" He said bluntly, gesturing to his leg again.

"Uh... Not really. Wait, actually I do kind of remember you talking to one of Chris' friends... I mean I _think_ he was one of Chris's friends..." Mark frowned, doubting himself upon reflection, but Josh still perked up at the vague piece of information. 

"So all we gotta do is find Chris then, right?"

"Uhh actually Chris left like a half-hour ago." Mark said apologetically, trying to let Josh down softly. Josh's face fell and he slumped further down against the couch, trying to remember what happened by himself.

"Oh, maybe he gave me his cellphone number!" Josh perked up again and lurched forwards to search his jean pockets which were still sitting around his ankles. He retrieved his iPhone but - alas - it had run out of battery. "Shit." He mumbled, throwing it down angrily before ultimately giving up. He was too tired and too hungover to deal with this crap.

The two sat in a melancholy silence for a few minutes until Mark had a revelation.

“Dude what if the guy is still here? What if… He’s the same guy who tattooed that ‘X’ behind your ear?”

Josh blinked and thought back to a house party he had attended a few months ago. He had woken up in a similar fashion to this morning with blood and ink smeared down his neck and scalp. He consciously reached up to rub the spot where the small tattoo was which was now covered up by a thick layer of dark brown locks. He had to grow out his Mohawk to cover it up for work which he was obviously not too pleased about - and is still a little touchy around the subject today. To think some guy had just decided to tattoo a him while he was drunk _twice_ made Josh's blood boil. Feeling determined, he turned to look at Mark.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Josh huffed as he carefully shimmied up his jeans, “Let’s go find that son-of-a-bitch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Josh has BEEF with this serial tattoist - I wonder who it could be?  
> Lol I know nothing about tattoos tho so I should probably read up on that... yeah


	2. Well, He Looks Different Today

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if you were hoping for an update on the other fic, conclusion: I'm a piece of shit. Enjoy xox

Josh hobbled down the stairs as fast as he could with what he would describe as an 'open wound' had he been given the chance. Mark followed closely, only pausing to bring his hands up to his mouth and shout a name.

"Tyler!?"

"Does anyone here know a Tyler!?" Josh followed up, calling up and down a body-littered hallway. Those who were conscious enough to do so shook their heads at him - all except for one girl who just threw up on the floor while the rest ignored him. Having found no luck there, Mark tutted and pushed past Josh, turning into the living room.

"That's T-Y-L-E-R, and he's possibly armed with a _needle_ and some _ink_ ," Josh followed him through and knelt down beside a couple of dudes who were sleeping slumped up against a far wall.

"Guy-Who-Tattooed-Me-While-I-Was-Drunk!? Hello!?" He called down at them, earning a rough shove towards the kitchen followed by a few profanities as he rudely interrupted their peaceful slumber. Josh realised his mistake and retreated into the other room with his metaphorical tail in-between his legs, but that didn't stop him from determinedly carrying on his search.

"Tyyyyylerrrr?" Mark on the other hand had wandered into the conservatory and let out one last call before giving up and returning to Josh.

"Tyler!? The T-Man?? T-Dog!?"

"I don't think he's here Josh-" Mark sighed, trudging back into the kitchen where Josh now was on his hands and knees and frantically searching through some cupboards.

"But he has to be!" Josh whined into the darkness of the cupboard before optimistically pulling out a box of cereal. Mark crossed his arms and pursed his lips, much like a mother whose kid had finally forced her to the end of her tether and was about to snap - which probably wasn't _too_ far from the truth.

"Look, dude, I'm _really_ fuckin' hungover - and as much as I'd like to see you beat this guy up - I have _work_ tomorrow so-" Josh paused to pull his head out of the cupboard and quickly looked back over his shoulder. If the former statement about the mother and the kid and the tether had been an exaggeration, it certainly wasn't now; Josh could see hell in Mark's tired yet poignant stare which worried him immensely because Mark was his ride home and - to be frank - Josh had absolutely no idea where he was.

"C'mon man, we haven't even checked outside yet!" He pleaded, putting on his best puppy-dog-eyes impression. Unfortunately Mark stayed defiantly silent and Josh was forced to think up another approach - and quick. There was no way in hell he was letting this serial-tattooist get away a _second_ time; he made that mistake the first time round and now he'll _never_ be able to wear swimming shorts again. Just the thought of going to the beach and having to wear scuba leggings or those ugly full-body suits men used to wear in the 1800s made his blood boil.

"Mark, just - if _you_  check the backyard and _I_ check the front yard we'll be done twice as quick, yeah?" He asked hopefully. Mark gave him a short, hard stare before making a tutting noise and rolling his eyes patronisingly.

"Fine, but even if one of us finds him I'm still going home." He mumbled in annoyance.

"Thanks man." Josh grinned as he got up to cross the length of the kitchen, clapping Mark on the back as he slid past him and started to walk back through the house.

"...Right." Mark sighed to himself, reluctantly heading towards the back door.

As Josh reached the front door he paused and made a silent prayer before swinging it open and being blinded - yet again - by a bright but cloudy Sunday afternoon. As his eyes adjusted he was surprised to find that the house he was in belonged to a long string of semi-detached houses that all open up to a busy road on the outskirts of a city somewhere. The specific location was unfamiliar to Josh and he couldn't even be sure that he was still in Columbus.

The front yard itself was pretty small - to say the least - as it consisted of a neat, square shaped patch of grass and only two plain bushes that were neatly tucked away in one corner along with an empty bird feeder. Underneath that, though, was a topless body laying face down in the soil. Josh squinted at them, intrigued; trying to make out if they were a guy or a girl. Upon closer inspection and by the looks of their battered Vans and lack of breasts, Josh was lead to believe that they were, in fact, a male (which, coincidentally, is exactly what Josh was looking for) so he made the brave effort to cross the lawn and interrogate this half-naked and possibly psychotic stranger.

"Tyler?" He called out as he crossed the lawn in no more than three crisp strides.

No response. 

 _'Jeez, I hope the guy isn't dead...'_ Josh thought as he inched closer, trying to spot the familiar rise and fall that indicated that - yes - he was still alive and breathing. As his curiosity got the better of him, Josh soon found himself kneeling over the seemingly lifeless body and staring down at the mop of soft, short brown hair that made up the back of this stranger's head.

"Hey?" He called out softly, prodding the guy's arm in a casual attempt to wake him up. It was at this moment that Josh suddenly noticed the tattoos littering his slender frame. He ran his eyes over a few minimalistic shapes that were dotted about here and there, but what really caught his eye were the bold, dark rings encircling his upper arm and wrist. Josh admired them longingly, wishing he had the confidence to get something like that done on himself. Unfortunately, his job wouldn't allow him to get any visible or 'outrageous' tattoos and his mom would definitely kill him if he ever got a sleeve. But still, a boy can dream, and almost subconsciously Josh reached out to touch one of them. Unfortunately this was also the moment in which the dead guy finally decided to wake up.

"Huh? What?" The boy suddenly snapped to life and lifted his up head off the ground. Startled, Josh wobbled backwards and scrambled to his feet.

"H-hey man, you okay?" Josh asked casually, wondering if he should try and lend the guy a hand, but yet again, he got no response. For some reason Josh decided that his best option _now_ would be to stand and stare awkwardly at the brunet's back as he slowly heaved himself up off the ground and brushed all the dirt from his front and face. With a pained whine the stranger then straightened his back and turned around, allowing Josh to finally see the remaining features of this mystery man.

The first thing Josh noticed was that he had some more of those striking tattoos on his front - boxes, he remembers vaguely - but more importantly Josh noticed that this guy was undeniably _hot_.

"Dude, my _head_." Was the first thing that came out of his pretty mouth and Josh was instantly mesmerised. _'please don't be straight, please don't be straight, please don't be straight-'_ was the only thought recycling itself through his brain as he watched those reddened lips say something else that he didn't quite catch.

"S-sorry what?" He stammered, eyes flicking up to meet with the stranger's honey-brown ones. Josh quickly studied his face (in a totally non-creepy way) and gushed over his perfectly sloped, thin nose and his long, dark eyelashes that fluttered almost seductively every time he blinked, which Josh thought was rather unfair - on his part anyway.

"Can I help you?" The man repeated in a croaky yet appealing tone, the question coming out like it was supposed to sound more intimidating than it actually was. Josh was still trying to decide whether he wanted to _be_ him or be _inside_  of him.

"Oh, uh..." Josh suddenly recalled his noble mission and now his thoughts were conflicted between  _'please don't be straight'_ and  _'please don't be Tyler_ _'._ With another silent prayer he opened his mouth to speak. "You wouldn't happen to be, uh, Tyler, would you?" He asked quietly. The other boy just laughed knowingly.

"Yep - the one, the only. Tyler Joseph of Twenty One Pilots, pleased to meet you." He confidently stuck out a hand for Josh to shake but instead of the attention he was so used to receiving he gor given a blank stare of disappointment in return.

"You're the serial-tattooist." Josh stated in an unreadable tone. Tyler frowned and withdrew his hand cautiously.

"Excuse me?"

"You're the douche-bag who tattooed me last night!" Josh accused angrily, looking Tyler straight in the eye as hot rage filled every fibre of his being.

"W-what?" Tyler stammered before yelping as Josh practically body-tackled him to the floor. In the blink of an eye Josh had grabbed onto his bare shoulders and was trying to force him back onto the muddy ground, but Tyler dug his heels into the dirt and threw him off. Little did he know that Josh already had a hold on either side of his ribs and used that grip to roll straight back on top of him. This went on for a while in a silent mutual struggle until Josh managed to roll back on top of Tyler and grab his wrists, pinning them to the ground.

"WHAT THE _SHIT_ DUDE!?" Tyler shouted once he had given up on trying to thrash his way out of Josh's death grip.

"WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?" Josh shouted back, rattling Tyler's wrists a little before pausing to catch his breath. "Why the _fuck_ did you tattoo your name on me!?" He shouted through his teeth. He saw the fear in Tyler's eyes contort into confusion and then into anger.

"I could ask you the same thing, _asshole_." He retaliated, spitting at Josh who in return released one of his hands to draw back a fist. Fear quickly returned back to Tyler's expression as he closed his eyes and braced himself - except the punch never came.

"What do you mean." Josh asked sternly and Tyler braved to blink an eye open. Josh was still sitting on his abdomen but his fist was no longer raised and he had eased his grip on Tyler's other hand.

" _What I mean is_ you tattooed me _too_ \- 'Josh', I presume." Tyler stated, watching smugly as his words broke Josh's spirits.

"H-how the? Where? Why?" Josh stammered, anger dwindling away as he began to question his own actions. Tyler smiled at him mockingly and gestured for him to get off. "O-oh... yeah." Josh blinked and reluctantly complied.

once he was freed, Tyler stood up with a huff and dusted himself down, trying to regain what was left of his dignity before immediately throwing whatever that was straight down the drain because he swiftly unbuckled his belt and shoved his jeans down to his thighs.

" _Jesus_ dude!" Josh exclaimed, looking away as he realised what Tyler had just done. "I never took you for a flasher but there are _old ladies_ walking their dogs like two metres away from us - _holy shit_."

"Look," Tyler said bluntly, ignoring Josh's observation and pointing at an inky speck on his right leg. Josh looked around, embarrassed, before taking a cautious step closer and bending down to inspect it, and - sure as shit - there it was. _'Josh'_ written in thick black ink.

"You didn't even capitalize the 'j'." Tyler sighed pitifully, "-you capitalized the 'H' instead."

The way Tyler acted so relaxed and jokey at the fact that he had just received a tattoo from a complete stranger made Josh feel like he was going slightly insane.

"Don't you freakin' patronise _me;_ I sure as hell wasn't the one who brought stick-n-poke to a _party_   full of  _drunk_ people a-and how do you explain _this_ -" Josh jolted his head to the side and scraped back his hair to show off the 'X' he had received a few months ago.

"...Well _shit_ , dude." Tyler said, surprisingly taken aback as he extended his left arm out to reveal a matching symbol on his bicep. Josh stood and stared for a moment, mouth twitching as he tried to think of something else to say.

A deflated "Whu... why?" Was all he could come up with in the end but he doubted that Tyler had any answers. The poor guy looked just as baffled as him.

"... I dunno, dude." Tyler answered quietly, biting his lip as he crossed his arms over his exposed torso. The two stood in an uncomfortable silence for a few more moments; both their brains preoccupied with trying to come up with a suitable solution to their current predicament, but to no avail. In the end it was Josh who broke the silence.

"I didn't even have the chance to get angry at you." He mumbled unsatisfactorily. Tyler pulled a face.

"You basically _body-slammed_ me the floor and nearly _punched_  the shit outta me. I think that counts." He snapped back, but then stopped himself, sighed, and put his hands up apologetically. "Sorry I just... Look, I  _am_ a tattoo artist so this is probably more my fault than yours so... let me take you out for coffee or something as an apology." This time it was Josh who pulled a face.

"Dude... you're a tattoo artist? A-and what the hell do you take me for? It's gonna take a lot fucking more than just  _coffee_ for me to forgive you for this - like, this is gonna be on my body for the rest of my life! What am I gonna tell my future partners? My kids?" At this point Josh was panicking more than arguing as he tried to stop himself from pacing around restlessly, refusing to look Tyler in the eye in fear that he might end up crying.

"Dude, don't worry," Tyler said soothingly, steadying Josh's twitching body by placing a firm palm on his shoulder, "How about I give you a cover-up tattoo for free or point you in the direction of some places that remove them with a laser - anything is fixable man!" He smiled sweetly and Josh paused before letting out a deep sigh. He really had to stop drinking.

"Okay, fine I guess, but first I need some caffeine. And you're paying." 

"Starbucks?" Tyler grinned, happy now that things seemed civil at least.

Josh rolled his eyes."Where else, ya dingus." 


End file.
